


Hard Feelings

by darkagechan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Attempted Murder, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Galra Empire, Gen, Haggar doesn't stand Lotor and the girls are just there for the salary and opportunities, Lotor hates Haggar, POV Lotor (Voltron), Politics, Swearing, Team Dynamics, don't expect big friendship moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25454755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkagechan/pseuds/darkagechan
Summary: A boring, eventless day in the life of the new Galra ruler turns into attempted murder.Not that the person whose life was attempted could be scared.A little study of one of the most interesting dynamics in the show.
Relationships: Acxa & Ezor & Lotor & Narti & Zethrid (Voltron), Haggar & Lotor (Voltron)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	Hard Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> So...it happened. My first vld fic. Wow.  
> I'm kinda satisfied with the results, tbh.  
> I tried to portray the characters (especially Haggar and Lotor) as close to canon as possible, but I wanted to explore Lotor's less suave side and Haggar's political mind, and how she sees Lotor...so maybe I went a bit ooc? Hopefully not too much!
> 
> Now, some quick notes:  
> 1) this is set after the first fight between Voltron and team Sincline, but before Thayserix  
> 2) narration is from Lotor's and Haggar's POV, some lines are from their mind, so that's why the generals aren't exactly appreciated: Lotor doesn't see them as friends, Haggar doesn't even see them as adults (lol), and they're not the big focus on the fic...but I will write something about them one day, they're great!  
> 3) in case you still hadn't noticed, this is heavily canon compliant. Don't expect any sugarcoating lol
> 
> If you're still here after this... abomination of summary and notes, I hope you'll enjoy your reading!

* * *

In the huge, long, cold throne room of the imperial main ship, silence was ruling supreme.

Well, almost. The emperor couldn’t be reigned by anyone else but himself.

Even if he was just emperor pro-tem.

 _Boring_.

Everything felt so boring to Lotor after a while. Even Voltron had bored him already: he had quickly found out the team members had changed since the fight with his not-dead-enough father. And still no sign of the quiznacking trans reality comet. Had he really miscalculated its trajectory?

Anyway, pure boredom. This time the only different thing being the fact he was just being bored in the Galra HQ after being exiled for thousands of years, rather than being bored in his cruiser or in one of the palaces he owned scattered throughout his territories.

One big, very unroyal and loud yawn escaped the Prince’s mouth.

A cheerful voice came from the other side of the hall.

“That wasn’t a very emperor pro-tem thing to do!”

“Nor is sneaking inside the throne room without my permission a very general thing to do, Ezor.”

Ezor tried to reply, but was abruptly stopped by Acxa (may the ancient gods of Daibazaal bless her. _Well bless ME for taking a person serious enough in my team_ , Lotor corrected himself immediately).

“Ezor! How dare you act like this around his Highness!”

“You’re so boring Acxa!”

“Ah, indeed.”

Acxa looked towards her boss, surprised by his comment in favour of Ezor.

“What? All of this is so boring. Nothing to do. I didn’t expect the empire HQ to be so painfully boring. Do not be offended, Acxa, I’m quite bored by myself as well.”

“Are you in one of your moments when you can’t feel anything exciting? Like you saw everything already in your long long looooong life, Lotor?”

“I must offer you my compliments, Ezor, you really read me like an open book.”

“You know, you’re not the first old man who feels like this!”

Now. That wasn’t boring at all. That was _insulting_.

“I AM NOT _OLD_! I AM-“

“Blessed by an extraordinary long existence which doesn’t involve aging so, from time to time, you get bored, especially since Voltron is way more disappointing than expected, your Highness.”

Lotor was bored again in a matter of ticks. Acxa was really boring.

But she stopped Ezor's stupid blabbering so he owed her one.

“Exactly, Acxa. You said it perfectly: Voltron doesn’t live up to its legend, and …we have not much to do. For now.” His mind was back to the comet already, he couldn't believe his calculations could have been so wrong, how was it possible? 

The prince was about to drown in his own mind, trying to mentally resume his plan and observations of the comet, when Ezor dared to speak again, a sly grin decorating her youthful face. Lotor got ready to whatever idiotic thing was about to come out from Ezor, while Acxa braced herself for impact.

“But what about the trans di-“

“SHUT THAT QUIZNACKING MOUTH OF YOURS, BRAT!”

The girls were left speechless. Lotor rarely used that weird Altean word, and when he did, it was because he really had enough of…whatever was going on.

“It’s funny, coming from you, prince Lotor.”

Said prince and his generals turned towards the speaker, who had suddenly appeared behind the generals but couldn’t be seen by Lotor, being the prince …busy bantering with Ezor.

 _Shit_.

Haggar.

Lotor missed immensely being bored (and alone) in the throne hall, but lost no time and talked back to the witch.

"Let us suppose I exile you to…mmm…death. I fear my poor father won’t notice your absence, considering his weakened status, you miserable hag.”

Lotor spoke, his words theatrical yet menacing.

“Of course he won’t notice, if you succeed to suffocate him in his sleep with a pillow. Or cut his feeding tubes.”

Haggar replied, no dramatic accent, but as terrifying as the prince. The witch was left completely unimpressed by Lotor’s attempt to scare her, while he was shocked, his jaw dropped and eyes open wide, full of blood and hate.

That disgusting _thing_ had really dared to speak to him, the ruler of the empire, in such an insulting way. Accusing him of attempted murder of his father! In front of his generals!

(That was the problem: he did try to forcefully stop Zarkon’s pitiful coma, but he didn’t want to make it pass as an unnatural death. The greatest emperor dying in his sleep was too funny for Lotor to just let the chance slip away)

Not even picturing his father dead brought any joy to Lotor: he was boiling with anger, and started considering torture, or using the witch as a tool to experiment with in his laboratories.

Or even sending her to his colony… _that_ colony of course, not the idyllic one.

_No, she’s not a true Altean, I don’t need her._

The truth was that even if Haggar had been the last energy resource in the entire universe, Lotor would explode with his empire, being forgotten by history, known only as a powerless failure of an halfbreed rather than involving the witch in his plans.

Even if once she was… _no, stop yourself, idiot, that nightmare will never be Honerva._

(Only one person was allowed to call Lotor an idiot: himself)

Ezor and Acxa felt like two minuscule, insignificant squirts in the middle of a millenial fight between creatures too old, too powerful, too dark for them.

Oh and they were also feeling sort of…awkward. They never fully understood the dynamics between their employer and the inner circle of commanders, druids and other high-ranked officials that once were indeed close to Lotor.

Physically of course, Ezor knew no one was actually close to Lotor’s heart…if he even had one. Acxa was more generous, and liked to think the prince was just too above every other common mortal like her or the other generals.

The witch snapped them out of their thoughts, her hoarse voice a low growl.

“I doubt you weren’t aware of your prince’s ill-intentioned visits to his father’s bedside. I could bring both of you to my lair, maybe you will be of some use…“

Acxa felt her blood grow ice cold and briefly glanced at Lotor, waiting for permission to attack the witch. Or run as fast as possible.

Ezor, on the other hand, was simply terrified: she had received so many threats by enemies even three, four time the witch's size…but she was different. Haggar was like a black hole, she captured every single strand of life, hope, strength that happened to be in the same room as her.

Lotor had enough of this. No one was allowed to treat his soldiers like that. Not even Zarkon, least of all that abomination called Haggar.

_They're a bunch of brats, but these are MY generals, no one can offend me like this._

Lotor silently rose from the throne, summoned his sword and steadily but soundlessly made his way towards Haggar, who was focused on the two hybrids in front of her and so her back was turned to the throne and Lotor.

He was almost close enough to behead her with one single motion, when suddenly Zethrid and Narti (plus Kova, always on her shoulders) entered the hall through the elevator positioned on the floor at the opposite side of the throne.

They were in a hurry: both of them looked like they had run towards the room.

“Lotor we have- WHAT THE FUCK!”

The sight of Lotor trying to attack Haggar from behind was surely shocking, and quite scary as well.

“Put down your sword, Lotor. It would be useless against me anyway.”

Lotor snarled and shouted, furious and frustrated: at Haggar, at himself for not being quick enough, at Zethrid for yelling and uncovering his surprise attack.

(Though he was almost sure he would have failed: only Altean magic could stop the witch, and he still hadn’t found his way to Oriande. Nor an Altean powerful enough to be used against Haggar.)

“You’ve been lucky this time, witch. But one day your time will come, and nor your old, sick emperor nor any other noisy interruption will stop my sword. Consider yourself alerted.”

Lotor then spoke to his generals, his voice less of an animalistic growl, still as threatening though.

“We are returning to our main cruiser. Now.”

The four generals followed their leader out of the hall, leaving Haggar alone with her thoughts.

The prince wasn’t to be left uncontrolled.

His fury could explode in any moment, causing who knows what disaster inside the empire: Voltron and the rebels were already an annoying pain, no one needed a fucking civil war between the main centres of power of the empire.

Lotor was, to the universe, like a medicine with bitter taste, but still necessary. His presence kept a sort of equilibrium: on one side there was the official empire, ruled by the great Zarkon, expanded by his loyal and fearless commanders; on the other side, a smaller, illegitimate reign, but as solid as the main Empire, governed by Lotor, an exiled disgrace but with the potential to burn the galaxy, the last reminder of the only civilization which dared to oppose to the Galra.

The Galra who couldn’t fit in the official ranks would find opportunities to richness and carrier in Lotor’s empire, which viceversa found soldiers in those outcasts isolated and refused by Zarkon's endless territories: it had been like this since the prince's exile started, and it helped draining the most turbulent elements (see: hybrids) outside of the main empire.

It wasn’t an easy relationship, hate was strong from both parts, knives always ready to go at each other's throats; a necessary medicine difficult to digest, indeed.

A conflict between these two powers would give more space to the Blades, boosting the confidence of those pitiful idealists. Or worse, it would open the path to Voltron leading a bigger rebellion throughout multiple sectors: the worst nightmare Haggar could dream of.

Still, just leaving Lotor alive and running his own side business wasn’t enough: after his encounter with Voltron, his interest for the Galra army and politics had significantly decreased.

It was no good sign to Haggar: if the prince had focused his attention elsewhere, it meant it was something that could give him more power, more satisfaction, more excitement than ruling over the empire he once desired to own so much, the empire he was banished from for thousands of years.

The empire that could be his, if he just stopped going on with his own, mysterious reasons and untamable attitude.

The witch decided to send sentries, drones, soldiers, even commanders after the elusive prince. She was no fool, and was fully prepared to another angry burst from Lotor, had he found out he was being observed, but Haggar didn’t care.

For the empire, victory or death.

§§§

“Why did you two run in the main hall?! What’s so important that you couldn’t keep your fool mouth shut, and just let me kill that bastard witch!”

The team was back on the main cruiser of Lotor’s fleet, but that didn’t help at all with his anger and frustration.

“Hey, trust me, I do enjoy watching you behaving people! But we finally tracked the comet…you ordered me and Narti to immediately inform you if we found it!”

Zethrid wasn’t exactly pleading, more like trying to excuse and explain her interruption. Narti kept nodding as her colleague spoke.

Lotor let himself down on his seat.

_(Is it really this small compared to the old man's throne…uh)_

He passed his hand on his face, then through the upper part of his hair, trying to recollect himself. He then took a look of his surroundings, slowly eyeing each one of his generals: they all seemed tensed, almost scared.

(Well, all except Narti. Lotor always prided himself as being unreadable, but that weird creature surely beat him).

He decided he had been too harsh, too intimidating for today, the generals weren't the main cause of his hard feelings after all. They were annoying, yes, but he couldn't expect much from such young individuals. They weren't that bad as fighters, and he had way worse soldiers serving him.

“That is finally some good news. We have much to do, this is the opportunity we waited for: the comet will be ours, and a new era of prosperity will come, erasing Zarkon’s cruel reign and his witch's doings. I will rule, and I would enjoy giving to each of you a well-deserved reward: once I put an end to Zarkon, his commanders will have to pledge their loyalty to their new emperor, but I am sure many will refuse to bow to me; you will own their fleets, and territories, as well as the soldiers you already command now.”

His speech had, as always, succeeded: every trace of fear, or disillusion with the prince and his plan, had faded away, leaving hunger for power, confidence and ambition lightning up the mood of his team.

Acxa, Zethrid and Ezor were talking about their future fleets, the regions they were going to rule, the treasures that would make them richer than any commander of the empire. Narti was petting Kova's head, a soft, satisfied purr coming from both of them, as she was facing her teammates.

Lotor was pleased with himself, satisfied with how swiftly he made his subordinates forget of his anger.

He didn’t mind infusing fear in his soldiers when needed (to win a tough battle, to teach discipline, to just remind them of who was actually in command..), but Lotor always preferred sweet talk and moral-boosting talks.

Menaces and shouts were of his old, dying father; no need for such brute methods for someone as incredible as him. Lotor's power was in the mind, not in the strength of his arm.

That, and the fact his generals could (likely) beat him if they decided to join their forces and overthrow him. Lotor preferred to pick strong individuals as members of his team: he knew he could always direct their minds towards the destination he wanted, so he could afford having strong individuals in the top team of his army.

He must had been deep down his own thoughts, because he hadn’t noticed the generals had stopped talking and were looking at him, waiting for the next order.

_Good thing they can't read my mind, ah. Well, aside from Narti but she wouldn't dare... hopefully._

“Sir, what’s our next move? Shall we set a course for the comet?”

“No Acxa, we must first get as far as possible from Zarkon’s headquarters, and from the witch’s eyes. She surely won’t let us alone without some control. After we made sure our ship is clear, we can calculate the next location of the comet and wait for it.”

“Yessir!”

§§§

“High priestess, excuse me. The spy drone you placed on the prince's main ship has been destroyed. We lost track of him.”

The druid's words didn’t shock Haggar. A simple robotic spy drone wasn’t enough against someone as perceptive (and paranoid) as Lotor.

Haggar gave orders to send smaller fighters with sentries after the prince, but after the druid left, she summoned various commanders and lieutenants, among the most loyal to Zarkon and herself.

It wasn’t the first time the witch had sent people after the prince: even though she never meant to kill him (unless he had been caught on actively compromising the empire, which meant setting up a war and not just minding his own business in his corner of universe), Lotor had rarely sent the unlucky commanders and spies back alive…or with all of their limbs.

His suspicious behaviour had always generated hate and disgust among the officers, Zarkon was the first one to curse his son’s name, but Haggar couldn’t really bring herself to feel actually angry. She was frustrated, yes, and had never agreed with Lotor's ideas and methods, nor she could really stand his personality, but there was some kind of…weird pride in her chest everytime she found out Lotor had, again, caught on her spies.

When the pure, huge, savage Galra despised the prince and (literally) looked down on him for resorting to intellect rather than brute force, the witch had to appreciate his wit, his brilliant reasoning which could still make him as dangerous as the most traditional commander, despite being shorter and weaker than an average Galra of high status.

Haggar _had_ to appreciate these traits in the prince, because she was just the same.

Everyone on the ship could have strangled her to death with one hand in a matter of ticks, but no living being would even _think_ of actually attempting to her life.

(Aside from Lotor. And maybe some stupid commanders, had Zarkon really died. But they would never be as much of a threat as the prince instead was)

And, again, Lotor was the same: surely, he was a skilled warrior, way stronger than Haggar, but his physical strength didn’t reach the levels of brutality of the highest commanders and Zarkon, making him choose brain over brawn.

And their common traits didn’t end there. The witch had always noticed a certain similarity even in their physical appearance: aside from the obvious white, straight, long hair, their faces were sharp and pointed, their eyes elongated and thin…not that these features of hers were completely visible.

She always walked with her hood well pressed on her face, hiding her expressions from anyone who wasn’t smaller than her: basically, no one in the HQ ship.

Haggar didn’t mind concealing herself: being a mystery was one of the reasons she was so feared and respected.

And, deep down, she didn’t dare (or want) to show how similar she was to Lotor.

It was something that always gave her doubts, weird thoughts, uncomfortable feelings that stung the back of her head, as if her unconscious was trying to tell her more about the unpredictable, untamable, unnerving presence that Lotor was to the empire, and to her.

_Who knows if he feels the same way. It’s likely, considering he always avoided me, and still hates me now after millenia._

_Who knows._

_Honerva knows._

_But who even was Honerva?_

Some other disturbing feeling, buried deep down Haggar’s inner self.

And so it should stay.

* * *


End file.
